


Matters of the Mind

by ConsultingCaffrey



Category: White Collar
Genre: Brain Damage, Just kinda seeing what comes of this, Mental Health Issues, Non-Consensual Drug Use, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:00:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10269848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingCaffrey/pseuds/ConsultingCaffrey
Summary: Post series. Neal is back, but he's not himself. Peter is faced with a new challenge: finding out what happened in France. Luckily, he has help.





	1. Return

The girl was young, hardly out of her teenage years it looked like. Her long dark hair was up in a ponytail held back by a baseball cap, and her olive green eyes darted up to Peter's as soon as he walked into the office.

"Peter Burke?"

He nodded. "Yes, what can I help you with, Miss...?"

"Uh, Anna. Can we talk? In private? It's really important and it can't wait." There was a very slight accent to her voice. French, he thought.

"Of course," Peter said, "Follow me." As he led he up to his office, he took another look at her.

She was nervous about something, so he assumed this was a case. Not many people actually showed up to the FBI personally for help so he was curious about that. And she knew his name.

Once they were both seated in his office, he said, "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

She nodded, taking a calming breath. "About six years ago, I had nothing, no one. I lived on the streets in Paris, barely surviving. And then... this man helped me. He gave me food, new clothes, a place to sleep. His name was Mark. He became like a father to me."

"In Paris, you said?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow. So he'd been right about the French thing. "France is kind of out of my jurisdiction."

"I'm aware," she said. "I wasn't finished. Well, recently, Mark has been into some trouble. I'm not sure what exactly. He wouldn't say. But then... something happened. He hasn't been the same and I'm... I'm scared."

"What happened?" Peter asked, leaning forward intently.

"I think you should ask him yourself," she said. "He was talking about you, so I brought him here. He's... out in the car."

"About me?" Peter questioned, surprised. He didn't know any Marks... But he did know someone who went by many names, someone he hadn't seen in six years.

Neal.

He put Jones in charge, then followed Anna out of the bureau and down the street a short ways to her car, a little green Honda.

There was no one else there.

Anna was instantly worried, looking around with wide eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have left him alone! I knew it!"

She made him sound like a child, but then again, Peter had treated him like one for so long, it was almost amusing to have that familiarity back. But Neal wasn't a little kid. So where had he gone and why?

"We'll find him," Peter promised. "I've got a few ideas."

-)()(-

Elizabeth had invited Mozzie over to watch Neal for a bit while she went to take care of some work things, so when there was a knock at the door, she called, "Come in, Mozzie!"

Neal was being fussy with his food, and she was paying all her attention to that, so when a familiar voice spoke her name, she froze, then spun around to stare wide-eyed at Neal Caffrey.

He smiled brightly. "It's been a while."

"Neal!" she exclaimed, running straight over to give him a tight hug. "What are you doing back here?!"

"I'm here for a reason," he said. "I don't know what it is yet, but it's going to be something very good. I know that much."

There was a strange... sense she got from him. It made her a little uneasy to hear him speak like that. It didn't sound like him. "What do you mean?" she asked.

He just smiled at her again. "Even the devil has good inside him and the devil can be good again. You'll see."

She looked at him, having no idea what to say, so she just smiled back, a little unsure. "Why don't you sit down? I'll call Peter."

"Okay, yeah, that sounds good," she said with a nod, and while he wandered in to sit on the couch, Elizabeth got her phone out, calling her husband.

"Hey, hon... This might sound a little crazy, but—"

"Neal's there, isn't he?"

She blinked. "Yeah. And he's acting really strange. Are you on your way?"

"Yeah, I'll be there in five. See you then, El."

After hanging up, she glanced in at Neal, finding him looking over at the pictures on the wall with his hands clasped in his lap. He seemed content to stay there, so she returned her attention to his namesake.

"Okay, mister, you'll eat your peas and you'll like them."

-)()(-

Peter got out of the car and trotted inside, Anna close behind him. On the way, he'd told her some of Neal's past with the bureau, and she told him some things about the life he'd made for himself in Paris.

He'd been doing very well, at least until these recent events, which Anna didn't know anything about. All she knew was that Neal had been in trouble and apparently trouble had found him. 

Neal was sitting on the couch when they walked in, but he stood up once he saw Peter, that dashing grin on his face as he came over to give his old friend a hug. "Peter! It's so good to see you! How have you been?"

"I've been good," Peter said, a little thrown off by the enthusiastic greeting. "How have you been?"

"Oh, I've never been better," Neal smiled.

"Alright," Peter said, glancing at Anna. "So what's been going on? Anna's been worried about you."

Neal looked at her, shaking his head. "No, you don't have to worry. I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm Neal."

"Is that your real name?" Anna asked.

"Well I don't know, maybe," he replied. "I have many names. So do you. You just have to go by the one that feels right. You have to decide for yourself."

Peter was a little weirded out by the way he was talking, but at least he sounded happy, right? "Neal, why don't you tell me what's been going on? Is something wrong?"

Neal's smile faded some, and he nodded. "Yes, there is. I'm trying to fix it."

His next words made Peter's jaw drop.

"I'm the devil and I need to kill myself."


	2. Question

"Neal, you are not the devil," Peter said firmly. "And you're not going to kill yourself."

"I know, I know that," he said. "I just mean that there's a lot of bad inside me. That's what I need to kill. I need to kill all those bad things."

Peter glanced at Anna, not sure what to say. She'd said he was acting off, but he hadn't been prepared for this. "Okay, Neal? Why don't we sit for a minute and talk?"

"I'd love to," he said with another smile. "That would be nice."

Elizabeth took Anna and little Neal outside, giving Peter and Neal their space.

Peter sat nothing for a moment, just looking at his friend. Even his resting expression was so different. It bothered him.

"I know you don't understand," Neal said. "There's so much you don't understand."

"Why don't you try to explain it for me?" Peter suggested, hoping to catch something important.

"Oh, I'm just me," Neal said. "But the truth is everywhere. You have to find it. You have to go out and find it. There's so many pieces of it. You just have to find it."

Peter sighed. "Right. Okay, well let's focus on one thing right now, sound good? Why don't you tell me what happened? Why are you acting like this?"

"You don't understand," Neal repeated. "I can't explain it. I'm so small."

"Just do your best," Peter encouraged. "I'm listening."

Neal nodded. "Yes, thank you for listening. It's good to have someone to talk to. And I'm here if you ever need to talk to someone yourself."

Peter nodded, remaining patient. "Yeah, thank you, Neal. I know I can always talk to you. But it's your turn now. Why the sudden change?"

Neal sat forward eagerly and Peter actually thought he was going to get a good explanation, but he should have known better. "I had a moment of clarity. I can see now. I can hear. I'm a piece in this battle between good and evil, just a small piece. But every piece of a machine is important."

"A battle between good and evil?" Peter frowned. "What does that mean?"

Neal smiled broadly. "Yes! Question me! Question everything! Every tiny red flag that pops up, you question it!"

"Okay, got it. Questions are good," Peter said. "I have an important one for you. Can you answer it?"

"I'll do my best, but I can't tell you everything. You need to seek the truth for yourself."

Peter paused, being sure he had Neal's full attention before asking slowly, "What happened?" He felt like he was going in circles, no closer to an answer than when he'd asked the first time.

"A lot has happened," Neal said, the smile slipping from his face again. "I... I can't speak."

"You've been speaking to me all this time," Peter said. "Come on, Neal, I want to help you."

"And I appreciate that about you. You just want to help everyone. But you can't, can you? Isn't that sad? But no, I can't speak. This isn't me. I am me. But my voice isn't my own."

"You're speaking for someone?" Peter asked, puzzled.

"Yes!" Neal said. "I'm speaking for her. Who is her? The angel of the earth."

He got quiet after that, sitting back and looking down at the floor. No matter what Peter said, he wouldn't answer anymore. His downcast eyes were suspiciously wet.

-)()(-

They put Neal in the guest room and Anna went back to her hotel after making Peter promise to look after Neal.

Once she was gone and their son was put to bed, Elizabeth sat beside Peter on the couch, looking at him with concern. "Is Neal okay?"

Peter shook his head. "No, he's not. Not at all. I think we should take him to the hospital tomorrow. I don't know what happened to him, but this isn't the Neal I knew."

She put a hand on his shoulder with a small sigh. "Will he even go?"

"If I have to bribe him, I will," Peter said, glancing toward the stairs.

Elizabeth smiled slightly. "You're a federal agent. Can't you get in trouble for bribing?"

Peter leaned over to give her a kiss. "I think this is a gray area."

-)()(-

"Okay," Neal said with another bright smile. "Yeah, I think that might be good."

Peter was stunned. Neal was being far too agreeable. "Really?"

"If you want me to go get checked out, what's the harm?" Neal shrugged. "Will it help you?"

"It might help both of us."

"Then I have no problem with it."

Peter nodded. He wasn't going to question it. At least they didn't have to argue.

After calling Anna to let her know what they were doing, they both got in the car and Peter started driving to the nearest hospital, occasionally glancing over at Neal, who seemed perfectly content to just look out the window.

Peter had imagined for the last six years what their reunion would be like. He'd never expected it to be like this. Did it count as a reunion when the man next to him didn't even seem like Neal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're slowly figuring out what happened to my sister. I'm going to be taking a different route for this story for the sake of plot and what I had planned.


	3. Unraveling

At the hospital, Neal walked in without a fuss. He seemed in a constant bright mood, aside from the times where he'd clam up and refuse to speak while tears ran down his face. That had happened twice now and it only confused everyone around him even more.

As they sat in the waiting area, Neal glanced over at Peter curiously. "Is it alright if I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead," Peter replied, looking back at him.

"What does it mean to you to be a man?"

Peter blinked, thinking for a second. "Well... To me, it means being the rock of my family. It means I look after them and provide everything they need. I do what's right and protect those who can't protect themselves. Why? What does it mean to you?"

Neal shook his head, brushing the question off. "It doesn't matter what I think."

"Of course it does," Peter said, but before he could say anything else, the doctor called them in and they followed him to a small room down the hall to the right.

Neal sat while Peter explained what was going on. He didn't chime in, just listened. In fact, he was silent for most of the visit unless he was asked a direct question.

"Mr Caffrey?" Doctor Polich started, and Neal glanced up at him expectantly. "How do you feel?"

Whenever he was asked that question or one like it, he always insisted he felt fine, so that was what Peter was expecting.

"I'm not sure who I am," Neal said instead. "I don't feel like myself."

Peter looked at him in surprise. That was the most coherent or semi-coherent thing he'd said so far. It gave him hope that he'd get his old friend back.

"What do you mean by that?" the doctor asked.

Neal went right back to not making any sense. "I don't know. What do you think I mean?" he asked, almost looking eager to hear the answer.

The rest of the visit wasn't much better. The doctor did a volley of tests and said they'd have the results soon, but aside from that, he had nothing. He didn't say the word, but Peter knew they had both considered it. Schizophrenia. But that just didn't seem like Neal. It had to be something else, right?

The drive home was pretty much the same as the drive there. Neal was quiet, looking out the window, and Peter was deep in thought the whole way back to his house.

-)()(-

Neal finally met his namesake and he gushed over the fact that they'd named him Neal. Same spelling and everything. He almost seemed normal for a moment there, but of course that didn't last nearly as long as they would have liked.

Anna arrived in the middle of Neal's long delusional talk about topics that seemed to jump around every five seconds. At the moment, he was talking about someone named Gabriel.

That caught Peter's attention and he quickly interrupted. "Who's Gabriel?" Maybe they'd finally get somewhere.

"Gabriel?" Neal questioned, tilting his head. "I don't know a Gabriel."

But Peter saw it in his face. He saw something familiar. Neal was lying.

"You can talk to me about anything. You already know that, don't you?"

"You're right. Thank you for that. I really appreciate it. I know I can talk to you anytime."

Peter nodded, determined not to let this go until he had a solid lead. "So who's Gabriel?"

"I don't know," Neal said again. "I can't say."

"Can't or won't?"

Neal just looked at him.

"I... might know who Gabriel is," Anna spoke up, drawing Peter's attention. "He was a friend I think. Back in Paris."

"Can you get in touch with him?" Peter asked. Even if this Gabriel had nothing to do with Neal's behavior, it could be useful to talk to him. Maybe he had a better idea of what had happened.

Anna nodded. "I have Neal's phone."

Neal tilted his head. "Why?"

"Because you kept calling me," she replied. To Peter, she said, "You can do it if you want. I wouldn't know what to say." She handed Neal's phone to Peter, who took it gratefully.

"I'll be right back," he said, turning the phone on and walking outside.

Going through Neal's contacts, he saw very few names. There was Anna, someone named Honey Badger, and a couple other more normal names. Gabriel Pul was halfway down and Peter looked at the name for a moment before calling the number.

It rang twice before a deep voice answered. "Hey, Mark, where you been? I dropped by, but no one was there."

"This is Peter," he said. "I'm a friend of... Mark's. He's with me." Interesting choice of name. He wondered if there was anything significant about it.

"Oh..." There was obvious suspicion in the man's voice. "Well I wanna talk to him."

"Can I talk to you first?" Peter asked. "I just have a few questions."

"What are you, a cop? Let me talk to Mark."

"He's not doing well," Peter said. "I'm trying to figure out why. Do you know if there was anyone who would want to hurt him?"

"Wait, what happened?" Gabriel demanded.

"He's not acting like himself," Peter explained. "He's delusional, not making any sense. Now did he have any enemies?"

"No, he was a sweetheart," Gabriel said, finally answering a question. "Took in this teenage girl off the street, got himself a girlfriend. Far as I know, everyone loved him."

"A girlfriend?" Peter questioned. Anna had failed to mention that.

"Yeah, what was her name... Ruby? I think it was Ruby. Nice gal. Only met her once though."

"Do you think she'd know something?"

"Considering how infatuated with each other they seemed, I wouldn't doubt it," Gabriel replied. "That all, officer? I'd like to talk to my friend now, if that's alright with you."

"Yeah, let me go get him," Peter said heading back inside.

There was nobody on the couch anymore, and he looked around, calling, "Neal?"

Footsteps on the stairs made him glance up expectantly, but it was just Anna. She looked around the room, puzzled. "He's not down here?"

Peter shook his head. "He's not upstairs?"

She shook her head as well, eyes widening slightly.

"Dammit," Peter cursed. "Gabriel, I'm gonna have to call you back."

Neal was gone again.


	4. Ruby

They looked for Neal for hours, coming up with nothing. Peter really missed the days when he could just pull up his tracking data and know exactly where he was within a minute of asking himself the question.

But the anklet was long gone and they had nothing. Peter still had his phone, so they couldn't even call him.

They'd even checked with June, not telling her who they were looking for because she still thought Neal was dead. No, she hadn't had any visitors, she said, then asked what was going on and if there was any way she could help.

"No," Peter told her. "Just let me know if anything comes up."

Where else would Neal go?

-)()(-

Mozzie had been out on his rounds, playing some card games at the park and then going to his favorite little cafe a couple blocks from there. He was a creature of habit, so sue him. It wasn't like he had anyone after him at the moment. Although one could never be too careful...

That was probably why he jumped a foot in the air when he heard a "Hey, Moz," and someone fell in step beside him. A very certain someone. Someone who, last he'd checked, was supposed to be off living the good life somewhere. All he could do was stop in his tracks and stare at Neal, jaw dropping.

Neal looked over at him with a small frown. "I know. I hurt you."

Mozzie could only wrap his arms around his friend and hold him in a tight hug. "Why didn't you tell me?! We could have done it together! We—!"

"Moz, I couldn't have done that to you," Niel said. "I didn't want you to die."

"You didn't," Mozzie countered. "Seriously, Neal! You told Peter and you didn't tell me? Your best friend?"

"You're upset," Neal sighed, his demeanor seeming off in some way that Mozzie couldn't peg yet. "I'm trying to... I need to..." He looked around as if suddenly realizing where he was. "I was doing something. What was I doing?"

Mozzie looked at him with slight concern. "Are you okay?"

Neal didn't even look at him, talking to himself under his breath as he looked this way and that. "I was doing something," he repeated. "I can't forget it. Be mad."

"Okay," Mozzie said. "How about you talk some sense? I have no idea what's going on." If this was some kind of signal, he wasn't getting it. But clearly Neal was trying to tell him something, right? His behavior was way off.

"Oh," Neal said, not to Mozzie, but to himself. "That was it. I don't think that was a good idea. I should go back. Peter would be upset."

"Wait, Peter knows you're— Neal!"

Neal had already started walking, going back the way he'd come and not waiting for his friend to follow. Mozzie scrambled to catch up, walking by his side. Well, Neal's fast walk was his slow jog. "Would you stop for just one second and tell me what's up?"

Neal did stop, but his words only served to confuse Mozzie even further. "I was brought home for a reason. Can you help me find it? I don't know what he wants."

"What who wants?"

"My father. I'm his son, you know. That's what I am."

Now Mozzie was really freaking out. What the hell had happened to the Neal Caffrey he'd known for so long?

-)()(-

When there was a knock at the door, Peter didn't know who he was expecting, but it wasn't Neal and Mozzie.

"Neal!" he exclaimed. "You can't just run off like that! We were worried about you!"

Neal ducked his head, saying nothing and Peter almost thought he might start crying again and refuse to talk for a while.

"What am I missing?" Mozzie demanded to know, pushing his way inside after Neal.

"Where did you find him?" Peter asked, ignoring the question for the moment.

"He found me," Mozzie corrected. "Over by Central Park."

Peter looked back to Neal. "What were you doing?" Normally, he'd be met with a defensive quip, but Neal simply shrugged.

"Well, I started walking. I thought I might find a place to jump off, but then I didn't so I came back." He said it as if it was a perfectly normal thing and Peter's jaw dropped, though no sound came out for a solid ten seconds.

It was Mozzie who spoke first. "Neal... Do you mean...?"

"Mean what?"

"Okay," Peter said. "Neal, you sit on the couch, alright? Don't move an inch. Understand?"

"I understand," he said, sitting obediently and clasping his hands in his lap.

Peter pulled Mozzie aside to explain everything while Elizabeth took little Neal to the kitchen to get him something to eat. Anna sat with Neal, talking quietly with him.

Mozzie, of course, was livid. He was sure that somebody had done something to Neal and that this wasn't just some freak case of a psychotic break. To be perfectly honest, Peter was thinking the same thing. If he could just find this Ruby person, maybe they'd finally get some answers.

"Why not ask Neal?" Mozzie suggested.

"He's already played hard to get with questions," Peter said. "And the answers he does give don't make any sense."

"Well lucky for you, I speak fluent crazy," Mozzie huffed, crossing his arms with a glance over at his friend. "I'll get something out of him."

As it turned out, that was easier than they thought it'd be. As soon as the name Ruby was mentioned to him, Neal blinked and sat up straighter. "Honey Badger," he said, sounding surprised.

"What? Honey badgers?" Mozzie mumbled, brow furrowed.

"That was one of the contacts in his phone," Peter said with much the same expression. He hadn't pegged Neal for the "cute nicknames" type. And what kind of cute nickname was Honey Badger anyway? At least it was memorable.

He took Neal's phone out, searching through the contacts and finding it again easily. "Think that's Ruby?" he asked nobody in particular.

"It's worth a try," Mozzie shrugged.

Peter called the number and waited, listening to it ring as he glanced over at Neal again. He was just looking down at the floor blankly.

It seemed like no one was going to answer, but then Peter heard the line click, but no voice greeted him. "Hello?" he tried.

"Hello?" a female voice echoed quietly.

"Ruby?"

No answer, but the line stayed open.

"Ruby, my name is Peter. I'm a friend of... I'm a friend of Mark's," he said, remembering the name Neal had been going by.

"Did you... find him?" she asked, sounding scared. Well, anyone would be if their significant other had disappeared.

"Yeah, he's here with me. He's safe," Peter said.

There was silence for another moment, then she stammered, "H-He's safe? What... What do you mean?"

Peter shot a glance at Mozzie, answering her. "I mean he's okay. Well, for the most part. But I was just wondering if you knew anything about what's been going on with him."

"I don't know anything," she insisted, and even over the phone, she was a terrible liar. She sounded even more scared than before.

"Ruby," Peter said gently, "He's not well. If you can give me any information that all that might help, I promise you I'll look into it. I want to help him."

Silence again for a long time. Peter waited, though. As long as the line was still open, she was still there.

He paused blinking when he heard a noise from her end. When it came again, he realized she was crying.

"I... I was supposed to kill him," she said through sobs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's the second chapter of the day! This is definitely branching off a new direction I didn't forsee but I think it's for the better.


	5. Entropy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we get our explanation...

Peter must have spoken on the phone with Ruby for a solid hour, finally getting the full story, but it didn't ease his mind one bit. The things she told him only made him worry more.

There was a man, she said, a man who had come to her and they had... done some things. She wasn't specific and she didn't have to be. Neal had never found out about it and she wanted to keep it that way, begged Peter not to tell him. He didn't promise, but he probably wouldn't say anything.

From the details Ruby gave him, he could piece together what had happened.

-)()(-

The man was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He was very friendly at first. For weeks, they talked back and forth, visited each other in secret. Ruby was confident that Mark would never find out, even smart as he was. She had always admired that about him, but now she was wary of it. She needed to be careful.

Pierre was French, which was intriguing to her. It was why she had moved to Paris so long ago. She loved this place and everything in it. Yes, Mark could speak French fluently and he knew the traditions and culture very well, but he wasn't French.

She grew to love Pierre just as much as Mark, but that all came crashing down when he told her one day that Mark had to die. She was appalled. Who could suggest such a thing? Their arrangement was just fine, wasn't it?

She couldn't promise to leave him, Pierre said, so he had to be killed. It was for them, he said. Didn't she love him?

Of course, she said. Of course she loved him! But this... This was a horrible idea.

Which was why she was completely stunned to find herself walking back home with a little vial of powder. Pierre didn't say what it was, he just said that it should take care of their problem after she put it in a drink or some food. Something like that.

Mark wasn't a problem, she told herself. Why was she doing this? Did she love Pierre that much? Yes, she did. But that was wrong and she knew it. If he was asking this of her, did he really love her?

Seeing Mark's face, feeling his lips against hers as he welcomed her home, she thought she might cry. But she was a very good actress. That was how she and Mark had met. A play, a late night walk around the block of the theater.

She pushed those thoughts aside. They would stop her from doing this. She wanted them to stop her, but Pierre... What if he refused to see her again? How could she live with that?

It broke her heart, dumping the white powder into a glass of wine, which she was sure not to mix up with her own as she brought them out to the living room where Mark waited for her with a smile and a "How was your day?"

She gave him a sufficient answer, sitting beside him and taking a drink from her glass. She had to force her hands not to shake as she did, knowing that Mark would be able to tell at the slightest hint that something was wrong. He was always that way.

God, why was she doing this? For Pierre, yes, but was that enough of a reason?

She watched her lover drink, her heart sinking and seeming to beat off rhythm. She began to doubt herself. Had she not paid enough attention and given him the wrong glass? Was this nervousness or had she drank the poison?

No, she realized. She'd done it right.

Mark's eyes looked unfocused and he seemed confused as he looked down at the empty glass in his hand. Then at her.

"Ruby...?" he said quietly, so much in that one little whisper that she immediately felt tears fill her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she gasped. "I'm... I'm so..."

He couldn't hold her gaze, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head as he slipped sideways on the couch, limbs twitching as he convulsed.

Ruby couldn't stay a second after that and she fled her own home, leaving him there alone. She couldn't bear to see what she'd done. She'd go to Pierre and he would console her, tell her everything would be okay.

Anna would come looking for him. She hadn't even thought about the girl. What a horrible thing for a young lady to stumble across. What had she done? Oh, what had she done?!

Her tears refused to stop, and by the time she got to Pierre's, she could hardly speak, too upset to form words.

Her new lover regarded her much differently than she was used to... His eyes held no concern for her, just a sharp focus as he asked, "You did it?"

She nodded, staring at him. Why was he looking at her like she was no more than a stranger?

"Good," he said. "Neal Caffrey is dead."

He brushed off his suit, giving her a nod. "Thank you, Ruby."

Like a business deal. 'Thank you, Ruby.' Like a friend who'd been owed a favor.

"P-Pierre...?" she gasped. "What are you doing? Look at me!"

He did no such thing. Instead, he just walked away, leaving her standing there frozen in place, unable to follow. She couldn't breathe. What had she done? What had she done?! WHAT HAD SHE DONE?!

-)()(-

Neal opened his eyes, his body feeling numb and cold. That was familiar. Like back when he'd died. But he hadn't died because it had all been a trick. Just a trick. So this must be a trick too. But what sort of trick? Dogs did tricks.

He looked down at himself. No, not a dog. Dogs had fur. There was only fur on top of his head. That hardly counted. No.

It was all hazy. He couldn't think straight. Think circular. That's what Mozzie said. How did one think circular? Did thought have a shape? Why did people say that if it wasn't true?

Ruby had done this to him. He couldn't tell anyone. They'd punish her for it. He didn't want that. She'd said sorry, hadn't she? He needed to find out... Why would she do that? How? Tears filled his eyes. Deliberation. What a word. He wanted to erase it, but you couldn't see words, you could only speak them.

The world felt so different. He felt different. But it was a good thing, wasn't it? This was a test. He'd survived it. What did that mean?

It seemed like only a short time had passed before Anna was suddenly there, like she'd teleported. Was that possible? Anything was possible. He accepted it.

He hadn't moved from his place on the couch, and Anna was in front of him. She'd asked him something. He hadn't heard.

"What?" The one word sounded off, too quiet and his voice broke in the middle. Was that a bad thing? It was just a word.

Anna asked him what was wrong and he gave her a reassuring smile. "Nothing's wrong." There. He'd fixed his voice. Everything was fine now.

She didn't seem convinced. She was looking at him with worry in her eyes. He didn't want that to be there. Frowning, he reached out to place a hand on her cheek. "Don't... Don't be upset. This was meant to happen."

She asked what he meant by that and he tilted his head. "I don't know. I haven't been told the full story just yet. But you'll see. In the end, we all see."

She didn't waste any time in leading him outside. It was a short walk back home, and on the way, she tried calling Ruby. That made Neal a bit sad. He knew Ruby was gone for good. She wasn't coming back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get to you guys. Life has been quite the bitch lately.


	6. Association

Ruby hung up when she could no longer speak through her grief, and Peter stuck the phone back in his pocket numbly, staring over at Neal.

Part of him wanted to see Ruby brought to justice for what she'd done to his best friend, but he knew the person really responsible was this Pierre. And he doubted that was a real name.

Neal only just now glanced up from the floor he'd been staring at, looking around as if suddenly remembering where he was. He flicked his gaze to Peter with such a look of terror, it threw them all off guard.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked in a quiet, trembling voice.

"No," Peter said, horrified that he'd ask such a thing. "I'm not going to kill you, Neal. You know that."

"Fathers kill their children," he said, eyes still wide with fear.

Peter wasn't sure how to respond to that for a moment, and he crouched in front of his friend to meet his gaze. "I'm not going to hurt you at all, Neal. And I'm not your father, so you don't have to worry."

Neal tilted his head. "You're not? Oh, that's right... Yeah... You're not my father."

None of them knew what to do at the moment and the room fell to silence before Neal Jr wandered over to his namesake, placing a little toy car into Neal's lap. He did that a lot. El thought it was cute how he tried to share his toys with everyone, something most kids had a big problem with, but not their son.

Neal looked down at the car, seeming perplexed by it for a moment before picking it up, studying it curiously. A little too curiously for a grown man, Peter thought.

"It was there," Neal said, getting that old familiar look on his face that Peter recognized. He'd seen it a lot when they were in the middle of a tough case with no new leads. When Neal got that look, it meant he was onto something.

He dropped the toy, looking at Anna quickly as he leaped to his feet, eyes alight with such an energy, it kind of threw them off.

"You remember!" Neal said, nodding to her. "Don't you?"

Anna just looked at him, taken aback. "Remember what?"

Neal looked down at the toy on the floor, then bounded quickly toward the door. "Come on! He was there! You have to remember!" It sounded more like he was speaking to himself now. "You have to remember!"

Peter motioned for El to stay with Junior while he, Anna, and Mozzie followed Neal outside quickly, not wanting to lose him again, but he hadn't gone far.

He had opened the door of the Taurus and was looking around inside.

"Neal?" Peter called, coming up beside the car. "What are you looking for?"

Neal glanced up at him, brow furrowed as he seemed to concentrate, speaking slowly. "I know who he is. Who you're looking for. I'm trying..." He paused. "I'm not right. It's hard."

Yet again, there was a moment where he seemed to understand that he wasn't himself, and Peter just had to hope that meant they could get him back.

"It's okay, Neal. Focus, alright? You know who Pierre is?"

He shook his head. "Not Pierre. He had a name. Keller. No, that was just a piece of it... Keller showed me..."

He stopped going through the car for a second, glancing to his right at the glove box. He reached over to open it, then his eyes widened and he stood up so quickly, he narrowly avoided hitting his head on the car.

"Ethan!" he exclaimed. "Ethan, that was him. The Panthers. We never saw him. He didn't want to be seen, so he wasn't. Nobody knew."

Ethan. Well, it was a start, but it wasn't enough. Peter placed his hands on Neal's shoulders. "I need a last name, Neal. Can you remember that? Ethan who?"

But Neal just shook his head, his eyes losing that familiarity now. "Who?"

Peter gripped him more firmly hoping to ground him, bring him back to the moment. "Ethan. You said you knew him. What's his last name?"

Mozzie spoke up, saying, "Neal, word association. You knew an Ethan."

Neal glanced over at him, head tilted again. "Ethan Morel gives you hell." He laughed. "Gives you hell."

"I know the Morels!" Anna said, looking surprised. "I think we met them once at some museum. We used to go there a lot."

"You know who Ethan is?" Peter asked, happy they were finally getting somewhere with this. Now they had a name and someone reliable who could identify Ethan. Not that he wasn't confident Neal could do it, but after today, he didn't want his friend going anywhere. None of them wanted to lock him up, but maybe that was best for now. At least he'd be safe.

Anna nodded. "Not very well, but I'd know him if I saw him."

-)()(-

"No," Mozzie said firmly, giving Peter a defiant look. "Neal is going to stay with me. You go do your Suit thing and let me take care of him."

"Mozzie," Peter started, getting frustrated. He wanted to know Neal was somewhere safe, and he wasn't going to be very sure of that when he was with the little guy.

"I speak fluent crazy," Mozzie interrupted. "And I think I know more than you do about keeping him out of trouble."

"I'm pretty sure you know the opposite," Peter muttered, but he gave in. Elizabeth would be here too, so at least he could be sure she'd stay on top of things. Besides, Mozzie liked hanging around with Junior. Together, they'd keep an eye on both Neals.

He and Anna however, were going to do a little digging to try and find Ethan Morel. It was unlikely he'd stayed in Paris after orchestrating an attempted murder.

"How are we going to find him?" Anna asked, looking at him questioningly.

Peter glanced down at her with a small smile. "We're going to need a little help."

"From who?"

"Interpol."


	7. Progress?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided to continue this.  
> Had most of this chapter written out already so I took the time to finish it up. I'll be working on something else for a while, though, so enjoy the cliffhanger haha. I'll get to the next chapter after I post the new thing. Thank you all for your patience!

It wasn't long after Peter and Anna left that Neal got another moment of clarity, or so it seemed to Mozzie. He'd paused, looking troubled before he said, "I hurt her."

Elizabeth glanced over from the couch where she sat with Junior, making sure her son colored on the paper she'd provided, not the coffee table. "Who?" she asked, asking the question before Mozzie could.

Neal glanced over at her. "June. I didn't tell her. I never told her. I told Peter. I told Moz. But not her. How could I have done that?"

He was talking plainly and Mozzie was going to use the opportunity to see what answers he could get out of his friend. "You did what you thought you had to at the time," he said first, then added, "I'm sure she forgives you."

Neal nodded. "She would."

Seeing that Neal was speaking plainly still, Mozzie asked, "What do you remember?" Maybe getting him to talk about old familiar things would put his mind back in place, or at least help.

"That's a broad question," Neal frowned. "I remember a lot."

"Start somewhere good," Mozzie suggested.

His hopes of having a nice conversation were dashed when Neal smiled a bit and said, "Somewhere good?" He didn't seem intent on sharing his thoughts, though, even after Mozzie pried and poked at him. He just asked Elizabeth if she had more paper, and after she handed over a few sheets, he grabbed one of Junior's crayons and bent over it.

Mozzie wasn't expecting a masterpiece, not with a single dull crayon, but he expected more than the scribbles of green that covered the page. He sighed, tempted to take it away and burn it because that was not what Neal would do. Neal Caffrey would use that crayon in ways no one would expect, creating a portrait all in green that might even make him a few bucks. But not scribbles that covered the white paper in random lines and curves.

Was he really that gone? He'd been looking at all the positives recently but now he returned to his natural cynical ways.

Elizabeth tilted her head, looking at the work after Neal sat back. "That's very nice, Neal," she complimented, giving him a genuine smile.

Neal shook his head. "No, not really. It's all out of order." He picked it up, turning it this way and that with a frown. "It needs blue."

Mozzie left Elizabeth to oversee Neal's little craft, needing some time and distance just to think for a moment.

No, Neal wasn't gone. He was still in there. It was just that he was having trouble thinking clearly, that was all. That poison was still messing with him. Maybe it would go away on its own, maybe they'd have to figure out how to get rid of it themselves. He hoped that was possible. But he knew messing with someone's brain like that could have serious and permanent consequences. It was just something they had to keep in mind, that maybe the Neal Caffrey they knew would never come back.

"Hey, Mozzie?" El called to him, and he scattered those thoughts before returning to the living room.

She was leaning close to Neal, who had stopped coloring. The paper actually looked a bit ripped. He had started crying again, tears slipping silently down his face. But this time, he didn't stay silent. He glanced up when Mozzie returned and there was a look in his eyes that reminded Mozzie of when Kate had died.

"Why would she do this?" he gasped, trembling. "Why would she do this to me, Moz? I don't wanna be like this. Please..." What he was pleading for, Mozzie had no idea. His help? What could he do?

He'd never been one to give Neal a pat on the shoulder and encouraging words. He was more like... God help him for admitting it, but he was like the Suit in that respect. He preferred to slap him on the back and tell him to man up. But he couldn't do that here. Not with this.

"We're doing what we can," Elizabeth said, speaking up for Mozzie when he failed to find the words.

Neal looked over at her, seeming more upset. "It's not enough. The..." He bit his lip, frustration sneaking across his face like a shadow. "I can't... I need... My hands."

Elizabeth looked at Mozzie for help with that one, but he didn't understand what Neal was trying to say. Luckily, they didn't have to ask.

"I want to do something," he said. "Not just fill in the lines. No, not the lines, the... the..." He covered his face with his hands, shoulders tense. "The case," he mumbled.

"You want to help with this case?" Elizabeth filled in and he looked up so sharply, Mozzie swore he'd given himself whiplash.

"Yes!" he said, looking relieved. "Yes. With Peter. Like we used to. I miss it. It hurts." He paused. "Maybe that's why she did it. She knew."

Elizabeth placed a hand on his shoulder. "Listen," she said. "Peter is handling it, okay? The best thing you can do right now is stay here and try to relax. You can be useful to me too, you know," she said with a smile.

Neal nodded, then looked at her with a deep sigh, calming down much faster than usual. At least he was talking and he wasn't as delusional as before. The things he said could be interpreted now in order to understand what it was he was trying to get across. Was that a sign that he was getting better on his own? Mozzie wasn't sure that was how these things worked.

"What about June?" Neal asked, jumping back to the topic he'd started off with in the first place. "I should go see her."

Mozzie exchanged a glance with Elizabeth, who gave him a shrug before turning her attention back to Neal. "That's up to you."

Mozzie wouldn't say so, not wanting to influence Neal's actions while he was scrambled like this, but he thought it was a good idea. June had been there through thick and thin, for both of them. She deserved to know that Neal was safe and alive. Granted, Peter had kept it from her all the time he'd known, and Mozzie was a little ashamed to admit he'd done the same. It just hadn't felt right.

Neal nodded hesitantly, then more firmly. "I want to see her," he said. 

"I can take him," Mozzie offered, looking down at Junior, who didn't seem intent to leave his coloring just yet.

Elizabeth seemed relieved at that and she gave him a smile. "Thank you, Mozzie. You two be careful, though, okay? Don't get into any trouble, and Mozzie, please keep an eye on him."

Neal didn't react to being talked about while he was sitting right there, not giving a short, "I'm right here, guys," as he usually would.

They'd work on that.

-)()(-

Ethan Morel looked good, even to Interpol. They had nothing on him and they wouldn't lend out an agent to help them. They were on their own.

They started with Ruby. Anna led Peter to her so they could ask her what she knew.

As they stood by the front door, waiting, Peter glanced over at Anna questioningly. "You said you've met Ruby before?"

She nodded. "Once or twice. I liked her. Neal liked her." Frowning a bit, she added, "She always seemed so quiet. I can't imagine why she'd hurt him like that."

"People do bad things," Peter replied with a shrug. "For her, she thought it was her only option. But that doesn't make it any less right." He was trying to keep his cool, but that was hard when he was about to come face to face with the woman who had almost killed Neal. Focus, he reminded himself. They had bigger fish to catch.

When Ruby answered the door, she looked at them timidly and spoke barely above a murmur. "Oui...?" Her dark hair was a mess and her makeup looked like she'd slept with it on.

"Hi," Peter said. "We spoke on the phone. About Mark."

Her eyes widened and filled with tears right away. "Oh, um... Yes, come in. Is he... with you?"

"No," Peter replied. "We just want to ask you a few questions."

She seemed to relax, and she ushered them into the living room to sit down, wiping her eyes and smearing her makeup further. "What sort of questions? I've told you everything I know."

"We just want to be sure," Peter said, giving her a small smile. "Now what can you tell us about Ethan Morel?"

She looked at him in puzzlement. "Morel? I've never met him, but isn't he some rich guy?"

Anna nodded, speaking up for the first time. "Supposedly. Morel might not even be his name, but he's the one who tricked you into hurting Neal. Er, Mark."

"Pierre?" she gasped.

"Anything you can tell us, even if it's small, will help us catch him," Peter said. "Ruby... I know you didn't want to hurt Mark, but you did. Badly. This is your way to help fix it."

She sniffed, wiping her eyes again. "I know his name is Neal. You don't have to call him Mark around me."

"You know?" Peter questioned.

She nodded, smiling through her tears. "He told me. He told me everything. He trusted me. And I trusted him. I don't care who he was or what he did. He was mine..." Nodding to herself, she took a calming breath. "I'll tell you everything I know."

-)()(-

Neal stood nervously at June's doorstep, hands clasped behind him as a maid answered the door, then brought them in. He glanced over at Mozzie, murmuring, "What if she hates me...?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Mozzie said. "She won't hate you for coming back. She'll be so happy to see you."

Neal sighed. "What if I give her a heart attack?"

Mozzie nudged him sharply. "She's not that old!"

At just that moment, June appeared, a question on her lips, but it died when she saw Neal standing there. Her jaw dropped and she blinked with a small gasp. "Neal!"

He smiled softly. "June..."

She surged forward, wrapping her arms around him in a big hug. "Oh, Neal! I've missed having you around. Where have you been? They told me you were dead!" She leveled a sharp look at Mozzie, but she wasn't angry, just puzzled and a little hurt.

Neal hugged her back, closing his eyes. "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to. But I- I had to. You understand, don't you? You're not mad at me?"

"Of course not, dear," she said, stepping back to give him a kind smile. "Just relieved." She sighed, looking between them with tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. "Do you boys want a drink? Lemonade?"

"Yes please," Mozzie answered and Neal nodded in agreement. She probably just needed a moment to collect herself and lemonade was a good excuse. Neither of them would call her out for it.

June went into the kitchen, assuming they'd seat themselves on the couch so they could talk all this out. Not a moment later, she heard Mozzie yelp, "Whoa, Neal, Neal!" It was fast. Too fast and too panicked. A second after that, there was a heavy thud and she rushed back out to see Neal sprawled on the floor. Mozzie was crouched beside him, eyes wide.

"What happened?" June gasped, kneeling beside him. She felt her heart skip a beat when she saw his eyes. They were fixed on the ceiling, just staring like he was dead.

"I don't know!" Mozzie said quickly. "He just fell. I couldn't catch him in time. He hit his head pretty hard. Is he...?" He shakily felt for a pulse and June shook Neal gently, slapping his cheeks a bit and calling his name. He didn't even flinch and his eyes remained open and blank. 

He was dead. She was sure of it.


	8. Friends and Enemies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be a little short compared to the others but I wanted to save my plans for the next chapter hehehe  
> This has been sitting in my notes for too long and I apologize for that. New chapter up soon, but to be honest, something else will probably get done first, namely a short sick fic I've been working on (because I've been sick).  
> Enjoy!  
> Also, any suggestions for further chapters of this story, I am open to hearing! :)

Everything was hazy and wrong, and Neal knew he should be questioning this, he just couldn't find the questions he was supposed to be asking. 

Why?

That seemed like a good start. God, it was so hot. Was he burning? He twisted to try and escape it but either he was too weak to move or he just couldn't feel. Luckily, the heat didn't linger, and as it slowly faded out, sound faded in. He hadn't even noticed the rushing sound in his ears like water.

"Neal?"

That voice... No, it couldn't be. He realized his eyes were open, but everything was blurry. How long had he been like this? He was aware enough now to know that something must have happened because he was flat on his back, one leg bent, the other flat. His arms were out on either side like Jesus on the cross and he wondered why that was the first image that came to mind.

The taste of blood made him wince and closed his eyes, frowning. That wasn't right either.

Something touched his cheek, a frantic tapping to accompany that familiar voice now demanding that he open his eyes again and "look at me, Neal, please!"

Well, since she had said please...

As soon as he opened his eyes again, he took notice of the pain in his head, but focused past that and instead looked at the angel leaning over him. The angel looked awfully familiar, a face he would never forget. But if June was an angel, then she was dead, and that was heartbreaking.

"Oh, Neal..." She held her hand flat against the side of his face. "You're going to be alright."

"I'm dead, aren't I?" he asked, his voice sounding like a dam about to break. That was an unusual image too. Where was he getting these?

"Of course not!" A new voice. Also familiar. But that couldn't be right. Mozzie?

Neal lifted his head, but that only made the pain worse so he grimaced and let it fall back. Probably not the smartest idea because it almost hit the floor, but June's hands were there quickly. "Don't move," she chided.

His thoughts were beginning to clear, but all that brought him was the certainty that yes, his head hurt a lot, and he also had no idea what was going on. Why were June and Mozzie here? How had they found him?

"What's going on? How are you here?"

"Oh, there he goes again," Mozzie sighed. "Neal, for once would you just try to string two coherent sentences together?"

"I just did!" Neal protested, sitting up again and this time staying there. June placed a steadying hand on his shoulder to keep him on the floor for now, though.

He then realized that this wasn't Paris.

Staring around at the familiar house, he felt his jaw drop. "What am I doing here? Moz?" There was nobody else around as far as he could tell. It felt like a dream. Things were still hazy, and getting even more hazy by the minute, it seemed. Wait. That was familiar. But bad. He didn't want to go back to that.

"Just relax," Mozzie was saying, "I'm calling Peter."

"Peter?" Light in a storm. Storm? Where were the rough seas? He was losing his clarity too fast to know. Wait.

It felt like no time had passed at all before Mozzie was handing him a phone and Neal looked at it dumbly for a moment. Who?

But Peter's voice chased everything else away and he clung to it like a lifeline. There was no water around, but he needed it all the same.

"Neal, are you okay? Talk to me."

"I'm okay," he said, his own voice making his head ache, and he may have said that out loud because Peter spoke again, saying, "That's alright, I know. But I need to ask you some questions. Think you're up for that?"

Neal nodded, then realized that wasn't a sufficient answer over the phone, so he said, "Yeah."

"Okay, good. Anna and I are in Paris. We found Ruby and..."

The rest was noise. At the mention of Ruby's name, Neal felt the blood drain from his face and he felt terrified. Not of her, but for her. "Peter," he gasped. "Wait. Ruby."

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"She failed. He'll find out."

He didn't have to explain himself further. He heard Peter's intake of breath and a quiet curse. "Alright, we're on our way back there. Don't worry. We'll keep her safe if he decides to go after her. What about you? Do you think you're safe at June's?"

Neal held a hand to his head, wincing a bit. It hurt so much. What had he done? No, focus. Cling to that clarity just a while longer, please. "I... I don't know. Moz. We'll be good."

Mozzie surely had a safe house they could use, just until they found... Found who?

He flinched at a loud noise and his eyes flew open. He'd dropped the phone. Oops. But his head hurt so bad and that haziness was crowding out his thoughts like a black fog. He no longer knew anything. There was nothing. Just the present. People. Voices. Pain. Color.

Peace.

-)()(-

Ethan Morel was an alias, but one he had slipped into readily. He was Neal Caffrey's perfect rival, someone who would get close but not too close to the man, his target.

He'd thought that he could trust the man who had given him the poison, something untraceable, effective, painful. But apparently Eli had let him down.

Eli now lay submerged at the bottom of the East River, a cinder block tied to his hands.

Damien was Ethan's real name, a trusted member of the Pink Panthers, but one that didn't participate in the heists they pulled. He was the man behind the scenes, the basement dweller who had to watch Woodford's leadership topple under the hand of the feds. But they had kept his name a secret, even the ones he would peg for rats that would no doubt fold under enough pressure. They surprised him sometimes.

It was up to him to avenge their fallen legacy, and this Neal Caffrey was at the top of the list, only put there recently when Damien had stumbled across him in Paris by complete accident. The man had been confirmed dead before then. How clever.

And he was difficult to kill now, it seemed.

Damien watched his target and a shorter man walk into the house where Caffrey used to live, before the Panthers had come to ruin, when he'd been a snitch for the FBI. What a disgrace.

He had Burke out of the picture for now. By the time the agent returned from Paris, Caffrey would be dead for good this time, and guess who would take his place at the top of that revenge list...

-)()(-

Neal opened his eyes not remembering when he had closed them. His head felt too heavy to move, so he didn't try, staring up at a ceiling that reminded him of angels. Where was his? Wait, did he ever have one?

Bits and pieces of memory came to him, like June. He had been leaning against her heavily as they walked somewhere. 'Not far' she kept saying. 'Not far.' It must not have been far.

Mozzie bothering him. Leave me alone, Moz. You're in danger. We all are-

Wait. Danger. Had it gone away?

He sat up abruptly, which probably wasn't a good idea, since his head was still heavy and it dragged him down, eyes half lidded as he slumped forward on the couch. Familiar couch. Nice couch.

"Neal!" June. Bless her soul. Surely she had a soul to bless. If anyone, June. Not him. Souls belonged to the living.

He half focused on her face as she tipped his chin up. It took too much effort, and it hurt. A lot hurt, these days. Luckily, she didn't do much more than that, just talked quietly. But the words weren't meant for him. Who was that over her shoulder? Couldn't tell. A girl.

"I might know someone," the girl spoke. Not so strange. He leaned towards it, the sound making his heart leap. He wanted... What did he want? Her? Closer. Please.

"Whatever you have to do," June said with a nod. The girl began to move away, turning her back on him, and Neal pushed against June, his tongue struggling to form words. He did speak, but didn't say what he expected to. That wasn't fair. 

"Hapana..."

She stopped, though, turning back, so he figured it had done the trick anyway. Hapana. No. Same thing.

She was there suddenly, replacing June directly in front of him. Her blue eyes were full of pain, which made him sad as she placed a slender hand along one side of his face. Why only one?

"Sara," he mumbled. She was a good thing, right? She'd help.

"It's okay," she said in a voice that no longer sounded like hers. Too soft, too gentle. It almost made him laugh. Why didn't you ever talk to me like this before? You were always so... What was the right word? He realized he'd been missing what she was saying, and now she was crying. That was worse, and he felt tears fill his own eyes as well. 'Don't cry,' he wanted to say. But his mouth wouldn't work again.

She stayed, made him lay down until he lost the world again.

-)()(-

Somehow, Sara had known all along that Neal was alive. When she was first told by Peter that he was gone, she had quite literally laughed in his face, and told him he was a fool. He'd been played.

But then she realized this was serious. Peter himself had been to see the body. The agent was convinced, but she just couldn't accept it. She kept waiting. Surely this was another of Neal's tricks. The things he was capable of... He continued to astonish her. So this? No. This was all Neal. It was a show.

Over time, she grew less convinced of this, and she started thinking maybe she was wrong. It had been six years. He hadn't come back.

Now she knew the truth, that she had been right all along, and she felt... Well, she didn't know exactly how she felt. Angry that he would just leave like that, make everyone he cared about believe he was dead, and in such a brutal way. Sad because he wasn't truly back. He was a cracked shell of his former self. Overjoyed because he was here. She was holding him in her arms and he was real. And maybe there was hope of getting the old Neal back.

Mozzie hadn't been kidding when he had told her this was bad. Neal was barely coherent, and he looked like he was in pain all the time. He never got up from the couch.

"We should be taking him to a hospital," she insisted, brushing some hair out of his face.

"And what, announce his presence so Morel can come get him?" Mozzie snapped. "Because that's exactly what will happen. People are much easier to find in hospitals than anywhere else."

"Well we need to do something," Sara insisted.

"Do what?" Neal mumbled, stirring in her lap.

She rested a hand over his forehead. "We're just trying to figure out how to help you. Now lay still."

He sighed. "That's easy."

"Good," she said. "Because you're not moving from this spot until I say so."

"No," he mumbled, eyes still closed. "Not that. Helping."

Mozzie tilted his head. "What do you mean? You know what we can do?"

Neal nodded, finally looking up at them. "Just make it quick," he said rather seriously.

Sara outright glared at him. "Neal Caffrey, if you don't shut up and go back to sleep, so help me, I'll knock you out myself."

He just smiled, "Where'd your sense of humor go?"

"That's not funny," she said sternly.

"Kinda funny," he mumbled, then sighed again, looking up at her. "I feel okay."

"Yeah?" She allowed herself to hope.

He nodded. "Mhm. Just tired. But okay." Suddenly seeming to remember something, he sat up, looking towards Mozzie. "Where's Peter?"

"He'll be on his way back tomorrow," his friend answered, though there was obviously more to that story than he was telling. Neal gave him a firm look, basically saying he knew there was information being held back.

"Moz, do tell."

Sara sighed. "I'll tell." She shifted her position in the couch so she was facing Neal. "Peter is bringing Ruby back here. They found out that Morel left the country a few days ago, headed here. He knows you're alive."

Neal was quiet, taking all that in as he stared down at the floor with a small frown.

"You don't have to see her if you don't want to," Mozzie supplied. "She can stay with the Suit. Or Wednesday."

"Awfully kind of you to offer up one of your precious safehouses," Neal smiled, but then shook his head. "It's fine. I don't mind seeing her."

"You sure?" Sara asked.

He shrugged. "No. But what's avoiding her gonna do?"

They all glanced over as June appeared, looking pleasantly surprised to see him up. "I just got a call from Peter," she said. "They got an earlier flight, so they'll be back sometime tonight or in the morning."

Neal felt relieved. He didn't particularly remember seeing Peter, not since the day he'd left New York. But he knew he had been there not too long ago.

But then he made the mistake of asking about that after June left, and Mozzie gave him an earful of what sounded like the most awful exaggerations ever. But after a while, Mozzie assured him that it was all true, the way he'd been acting since Anna had brought him back to New York, the things he'd been saying. It was disturbing to hear, and now he really wanted to see Peter again so they could have a real reunion.


	9. Disillusioned

It was late when Peter, Anna, and Ruby stepped off the plane, and even later by the time they got through customs and starts driving to June's.

They hadn't intended to bring Ruby along with them, but she insisted. She wanted to see Neal in person and apologize once they got him back to normal.

That was another thing. Ruby had given them the vial she had kept, the one she had gotten from Pierre. There were no fingerprints except her own, but there was just enough powder left in it that maybe the labs could come up with something. 

First, though, Peter was anxious to see Neal again. From the calls he'd had with June, he seemed a lot better. But there was something in his gut that was bothering him, and it wasn't the airline food. He had the distinct feeling that something was wrong, and he knew better than to dismiss it.

"Slow down, would you?" Anna called from the back seat. "Aren't you supposed to uphold the law, or do speed limits not apply to you?"

"Sorry," Peter mumbled distractedly. The closer he came to June's, the worse that feeling got.

The house came into view, but all the lights were off. That was red flag number one. Number two was Ruby's reaction to the fancy white car sitting out front. "That belongs to Pi- to that man. Ethan."

Peter was already grabbing his gun. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "He showed me pictures. He was very proud of it."

Peter needed no further words, quickly telling them both to wait in the car and keep the doors locked until he came and got them. Then he kept low and silent as he ran up to the door, which looked like it had been forced open. On the ground directly in front of him was one of the maids, blood pooling around her from a bullet would to the chest.

Heart racing, he crept further inside, listening. At first, all he heard was a harsh voice, unfamiliar, and something else he couldn't distinguish. A struggle of some sort.

Next, he came across Mozzie and June, who scared him half to death when they beckoned to him from further down a darkened hallway.

"Suit!" Mozzie hissed, "I was just about to call you. Ethan is here and-"

"I know," Peter said quickly. "Are you two okay? Where's Neal?"

"With him," June replied. "Sara too. She told us to hide and call for help."

Peter nodded. "Okay, good. Stay back. Go outside. Ruby and Anna are in the car." He started towards Morel's voice, but then turned back. "And call Jones, have him send backup. Quietly."

"On it," Mozzie said.

"Peter," June frowned, grabbing his arm briefly. "Be careful."

He gave her a nod, then watched her and Mozzie go out front, both avoiding looking at the poor maid on the way.

Right. Now for Morel.

He couldn't hear the man anymore, but he did still hear that other noise, sounds of a struggle. Peter quickened his pace until he reached the back room off the kitchen.

Sara was lying on the floor with her baton still clutched in one hand. Peter couldn't stop to check on her because the sight beyond that required his immediate attention.

Morel held one side of a thin loop of wire that reminded Peter of what animal control used to catch dogs. The other side was wrapped around Neal's neck, Morel's hand held high so that Neal had to try and reach around and up to relieve the pressure, which wasn't working well, by the looks of it. Blood ran from his nose and down his front while his eyes were wild with pain and panic.

But then he caught sight of Peter and froze.

Even Peter was surprised when he ducked, letting his weight drag down against the wire around his neck so he could pull Morel off balance. It worked.

Peter leaped forward, shoving the man off his friend and grabbing his hand at the same time, the one that held the wire loop. All it took was a hard twist to get him to let go, but then Morel was on him like a rabid animal, attacking viciously.

That was all it was, though. He was lacking a gun now, so Peter had the upper hand. Luckily, Morel seemed to realize this after a moment, at which point he just stopped and stood, glaring.

Neal's gasps and wheezes drowned out everything now, and Peter quickly got Morel down on the floor, sparing a glance only after he had gotten the other man's hands secured tightly in handcuffs.

Blood dripped steadily onto the floor where Neal was sprawled on his side, propped up on one elbow. He glanced up, looking dazed as Peter asked, "You okay?" He just nodded in response, still looking like he was struggling for breath. The dark red line across his neck made Peter wince, but he forced himself to pay attention to Morel again.

This was the man behind it all, who had done this to his friend. No, his family. It was increasingly difficult not to shoot him here and now.

Lucky for Morel, or whatever his real name was, Jones arrived in less than five minutes.

There was no time to explain Neal, and Jones was too good at rolling with the punches to ask about why a dead man was currently sitting -not dead- on the floor. He just took Morel outside while other agents swarmed the place.

Peter stood and walked slowly over to Neal, sighing as he crouched in front of him.

What had happened?

-)()(-

Neal was asleep when it happened. All he knew was that it was dark and he suddenly found himself being dragged up by his hair, eliciting a yelp of surprise from him as a man of significant strength yanked him off the couch that way, causing him to scramble to try and get his own feet under him.

He'd barely managed that when something tightened around his neck and he panicked, quickly spinning so that he came face to face with his attacker.

The face made him freeze. Ethan Morel. It was him. He was here.

There was no time to think through that before Morel knocked his feet out from under him and quickly darted around him again so he could tighten whatever was around his neck.

Neal fought back as hard as he could, but then he was yanked to one side as a resounding THUD came from very close by.

Morel bit out a curse, reeling back and dragging Neal with him.

Neal caught a glimpse of Sarah before she was on him again, and he swore to himself he'd marry her if she saved his life right now.

Unfortunately, he could see when Morel used his gun to clock her over the head, watched her crumple to the floor, and his hopes were dashed.

He didn't like guns. That right there was one of the many, many reasons. His focus zeroed in on the weapon. He could probably get in one good hit, so he needed to make it count.

His arm drew back quickly and he released it with a strangled yell, feeling his wrist smack sharply against the object. It was enough to send it flying, and as it hit the ground, he was relieved it didn't go off. Although maybe that would have alerted the neighbors or something.

"You, Caffrey," Morel spoke finally, gritting his teeth as he dragged Neal back further. "You are a difficult man to kill."

Neal smirked. He couldn't help it. "So I've been told," he quipped, but immediately after, the pressure on his neck tightened.

"You deserve this," the monster growled. "You deserve to die slowly and suffer through every fucking minute of it. You little pest. You ruined my family, and now I'll ruin yours. I will kill every last one of them, do you understand me?"

Neal struggled to turn around again, to face his opponent and go down swinging, but he couldn't, and now his face felt funny. He could taste blood. Why? Hot scarlet rivers streamed down his chin and covered his lips, made his mouth taste like metal.

He could feel the pressure only increase as Morel lifted his hand high.

All Neal could see was Sara's body lying several feet away, eyes closed and a red mark on her temple. Not dead, he furiously told himself. She was not dead.

It suddenly struck him that he was going to die here. And then Sara, June, Mozzie, Peter, El... God, Little Neal... Morel would go after them all. No! He renewed his fight to break free, but it wasn't working. His hands were going numb. Grey was creeping in on the edges of he tear-filled vision.

Peter. 

He looked like a ghost.

Neal met his gaze, saw his old friend in agent mode, and instinct took over.

'I trust you.'

He let himself drop, his weight pulling down sharply and catching Morel off guard. That was all it took.

He was still choking. But as he clutched at his neck, he felt the loose wire hanging there and he panicked again. Why wasn't it going away? He couldn't breathe! Blood seemed to invade his lungs. 

Everything else was blocked out for a while until he was finally able to breathe, albeit barely. He stayed put, not wanting to move at all, but he did lift his gaze when he heard Peter speak, asking him if he was okay. He nodded in response. Yeah, he was okay. Right? Yeah.

The next time he looked up, Peter was in front of him, crouching there with that worried look on his face. Beyond him, a couple agents were helping a pale Sara to her feet. 

"We get him?" Neal rasped.

Peter nodded, patting him on the shoulder. "Yeah, we got him."

Neal sighed, collapsing against his friend. Case closed. Just like old times.


End file.
